


One Comeback

by ErinisMagic



Category: Starlight Express - Phillips/Stilgoe/Webber
Genre: Based on the OLC, Gen, Light Angst, Post-Canon, i have Thoughts about no comeback and here they are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:20:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29635914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinisMagic/pseuds/ErinisMagic
Summary: "No comeback!" Electra had shouted as he stormed off the track. Poppa wasn't going to let that be the last they saw of him.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	One Comeback

It was getting late, and Poppa had his hands full. As much as he would have liked to join the celebration party and make sure Rusty knew just how proud of him he was, there were a few more pressing issues he needed to take care of.

Greaseball was just shy of being wrecked. His wasn’t a completely lost cause, but he was easily the worst case Poppa had ever worked on. He’d refused Poppa’s offer to convert him to steam, which meant that he and Wrench were struggling to work through the diesel’s repairs. As far as Poppa knew, they were doing alright so far, but neither one of them was experienced with diesel systems, so he wasn’t as confident as he would have liked.

Through all the work, he kept one eye on CB’s door. The caboose had slunk off on his own after the crash and Poppa thought it would be wise to give him some time to cool off before coming after him. Still, CB needed repairs too—being a lot smaller and lighter than Greaseball, Poppa suspected his damage was even more extensive. He hated the thought of leaving CB all alone when he was that hurt, especially for as long as he had, but it was taking both him and Wrench to get Greaseball back in working order. In the end, he had to make a choice, and he chose the engine who was willing to accept his help. CB would be okay in the end, but he would have to wait.

The sun had already set by the time Poppa was able to leave Greaseball. There were still a number of small repairs that needed to be taken care of, but Wrench would be able to handle those on her own. The party was still roaring, but as much as Poppa would have liked to join in, it was beyond time for him to check in on CB.

Poppa gave a longing glance at the party as he passed by. Rusty, as he expected, was in the center of it all. Everyone—the freight, especially—wanted to congratulate him on his win. He wasn’t quite used to so much attention and he looked a little overwhelmed by it all, but from what Poppa could see, he still seemed to be enjoying himself. _Good,_ Poppa thought, nodding to himself; he had earned it.

He took his eyes off Rusty to let them roam over the rest of the party. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. The whole scene was loud and bright, and with all the coaches and freight in the same place plus the additions of the national engines and Electra’s whole team, the yard had never seemed so lively. It filled Poppa’s chest with warmth, bringing him right back to the good old days, when both himself and the yard were in their prime. They were happy memories, bringing a smile to Poppa’s face.

Although…

Poppa slowed his pace, looking over the familiar faces a little more carefully. Something wasn’t right. Someone was missing. CB was hiding away in his house, Greaseball was still being worked on, Wrench was busy with his repairs, and Dinah had been holding Greaseball’s hand all afternoon, so their absences made sense, but where was Electra? He supposed it would have made sense for Electra to not want to be at the party celebrating the engine that had beaten him, but all of his components were there. A seed of anxiety started poking at Poppa’s heart—the components had been with Electra every second since he arrived. He didn’t think it was a good sign that they weren’t with him now.

He rolled to a stop next to the nearest component, the money truck—Purse, Poppa was pretty sure his name was—to ask, “Where’s Electra?”

Purse nodded toward one of the outbound tracks. “Stormed off a while ago,” he said.

A heavy knot of worry settled in Poppa’s stomach. “And no one went after him?”

“It’s just a tantrum,” Purse said with a shrug. “I’m sure you’ve noticed how dramatic he can be. He’ll come back once he’s calmed down.” He said the words with total confidence, like this was something that had happened enough times before that, by now, he knew exactly what to expect.

Poppa didn’t want to admit that he was right, but the words did ring true. He didn’t find it at all hard to believe that Electra had gone off in a huff just because he had lost. Still, that didn’t mean he was okay with it. “But didn’t he get hurt?”

“It probably wasn’t that bad. He goes crying to Wrench if he gets a hangnail; I’m sure this is nothing.”

Poppa pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to doubt Purse’s words—after all, no one knew Electra better than his components. He wanted to be reassured by Purse’s lack of concern, but try as he might, he couldn’t. He knew Electra had gotten hurt in the crash, and he knew it hadn’t looked good at all. If Greaseball’s condition was anything to go by, Electra needed help, and he needed it sooner rather than later.

_But…_ a voice in the back of his mind whispered. _No one’s checked in on CB yet._ Poppa glanced back at CB’s house. The windows were dark, the house as still and quiet as if it had been abandoned. If he hadn’t seen CB disappear inside earlier that afternoon, he would have thought he’d left.

Once more, Poppa was torn. They both needed his help, but there was only one of him. He needed to make another choice. He debated it only a second more before heading off after Electra. CB would still be there when he got back; who knew where Electra might end up if Poppa didn’t catch him soon?

It was probably a testament to how hurt Electra was that Poppa was able to catch up to him so easily. After all, he still wasn’t in the best of shape after his race with Dustin. Even so, it only took him about half an hour before he caught sight of Electra stumbling down the track.

A wave of pity washed over Poppa as he watched Electra struggle to push himself slowly forward. He’d seen Electra when he was racing—he was pure elegance on the track. All of that grace was nowhere to be found now, replaced instead with gasping breaths and the occasional array of painful-looking sparks.

Poppa wasn’t about to let this continue. “Where do you think you’re running off to, son?”

Electra jumped, whipping around to face him. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. His hair was wild, and his makeup was a mess. There was evidence of a few hurried repairs on his chest and legs, though Poppa doubted how effective they were.

Electra’s chest heaved, though whether that was from fright or exertion, Poppa couldn’t tell. His eyes darted around the space behind Poppa, checking to make sure he’d come alone. “I’m leaving.”

That much was obvious, but it didn’t answer any of the questions Poppa wanted to know. “Why?”

“This isn’t my yard,” Electra told him. “The race is over, so it’s time for me to go. I’ll find someplace else.”

Those words didn’t sit well with Poppa. Electra hadn’t been with them long, but Poppa was already starting to like having him around. “You know you don’t have to. There’s plenty of room for you here. We’d be happy to have you stay, I told you that.”

“And I told you,” Electra said firmly, “that I’m not interested in staying. So, I’m leaving.”

“All on your own?” Poppa asked doubtfully. Electra hadn’t been alone since the moment he showed up.

“Yes, on my own!”

“What about those components of yours?” Poppa pressed. “Are you really going to leave them behind?”

A look of hurt flashed over Electra’s face as he glanced back at the yard over Poppa’s shoulder. “They’re happy at the yard. They’ll be fine.”

Poppa could see the guilt gathering in his eyes and sensed that he’s stumbled upon an advantage. “I’m sure they won’t be so happy when they find out you left without them.”

“They’ll get over it.” Electra sounded equal parts certain and resigned, and Poppa didn’t like that at all.

“What makes you say that?” Even Poppa could tell that the components would be distraught if their engine left without them, and he’d only just met them. He couldn’t think of a single reason why Electra would say that they wouldn’t be.

“There are plenty of other engines who would be happy to take them onto their team. I’m sure they’ll be upset to have lost their jobs, but they’ll find new ones quickly.”

So Electra was implying that he could be replaced? That didn’t seem right to Poppa. “What, you don’t think they care about you?”

“It’s a business partnership,” Electra said stiffly. “They work for me, that’s all.”

That was a blatant lie if Poppa ever heard one. He’d seen the way they were when they were all together; there was love in every interaction they had. If Electra was denying that now, then something was clearly wrong. And Poppa was going to get to the bottom of it. “They came all the way here with you, didn’t they?” he probed.

“Yes,” Electra said hesitantly.

“And they were supporting you all through the race.”

“Yes.”

“And I imagine they’ve been doing that for a while now, haven’t they? Even if you don’t tell them to?”

“They have.”

Poppa shrugged, putting on an air of nonchalance. “Sounds like they care to me.”

Electra went quiet for a moment. He looked like he was trying very hard to hold onto his own like, like he was actually trying to convince himself that his components wouldn’t care that he left. Try as he might, though, he couldn’t. “Alright,” he conceded eventually, “maybe they do.”

“And you care about them, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” Electra said, sounding offended that Poppa would even question that.

“Then why are you leaving?”

There were another few seconds of silence before Electra quietly admitted, “They all want to stay.”

“And you don’t?”

Electra looked torn. “I can’t.”

“Why not? We’ve got enough space for all of you.”

“I know that,” Electra said. He sounded like he was trying to hide something.

At last, Poppa thought, they were getting down to the real problem at play. “Then why are you leaving?” he asked again.

A tense silence settled between them for a moment before Electra broke it. “I lost,” he said weakly.

“So?”

Electra looked up sharply at that. “What do you mean, ‘so’? I _lost._ ”

Poppa shrugged. It didn’t seem like that big of a deal to him. “Someone has to lose in every race.”

“Yes, but not me!” Tears were gathering in Electra’s eyes as he went on, “I’m the champion! I’m the Engine of the Future! I’m the fastest engine on the tracks; the most advanced; the next level. I can’t lose!”

“But you did.” Electra recoiled like he’d been slapped, and Poppa quickly tried to think of a gentler way to phrase it. “I’m sorry that losing upset you so much, but the fact of the matter is that it happened, and that’s okay. Running away now isn’t going to change anything.”

“No, but I can find someplace new where they won’t know what happened, and I can start again and get right back to the top and things will be normal.”

Poppa went quiet for a moment, all of the pieces starting to come together. “It sounds like you’ve done this before.”

Electra snapped his jaw shut, pursing his lips as he looked away. Poppa was sure he hadn’t meant to reveal that, but the damage had already been done.

In retrospect, it made a lot of sense. One of the first things Poppa had noticed about Electra was how careful he was with his image. It didn’t seem like a total act, but there was a certain level of thought and calculation behind everything he did, like he needed everyone to believe he was exactly who he said he was. Like he had something to hide.

“Electra, that doesn’t matter,” he said gently, making each word as earnest as he could. “Whatever you did before is in the past. It’s who you are and what you do now that matters.”

“But what is everyone going to think?” Electra said almost desperately. “When I came to the yard, I promised everyone I was going to win. I told them all how perfect I was, I got them all excited, and for what? I lost! I lost to a steam train!”

Poppa tried to stifle his offense at that. It wasn’t easy, but right now, Electra needed reassurance more than he needed a lesson on respect. “It’s not that big a deal,” he said. “Everyone loses at some point. No one’s going to care.”

“Well, maybe they should!” There was a tinge of anger in his voice, but Poppa got the sense that it was directed at Electra, himself.

“Why? There’s nothing wrong with losing; it’s just a part of life. Nobody’s perfect. No one can win at everything.”

“But it’s my job to win. I was designed to be the best of the best, and ever since I first started racing that’s what I was.” Electra’s voice broke over the words and he looked away. Shame was radiating off him in waves as he weakly admitted, “If I’m not the undefeated champion, then I don’t know who I am.”

“Then maybe it’s time to find out.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Poppa knew Electra needed time for the words to sink in, but he was patient. The seconds ticked into minutes, and slowly but surely, Poppa could see a change in Electra’s eyes.

“Come on back with me,” Poppa said softly, reaching a hand out towards Electra. “We can go see Wrench about getting you fixed up.”

Electra hesitated, biting his lip. Poppa could practically see the debate going on in his head. He let him take his time, not wanting to rush him and potentially ruin what he had been working for.

“I’m not converting to steam,” Electra said eventually, taking Poppa’s hand.

Poppa smiled. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, turning to lead Electra back home.


End file.
